The Demon Within
by Vryce
Summary: A Post "Gift" fic in which Faith has a heart to heart of sorts with Buffy. Also, this is my first ever fic, so please review and send feedback to let me know what you think.


Author: Vryce  
Author's note: This story is just a fanfic and not to be interpreted as having anything to do with actual Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel continuity. This is just something I wrote for fun so please don't sue me or anything.  
Disclaimer: Buffy, Faith, Red, and the rest of the gang all belong to Joss Whedon and I mean no infringement of any kind. The only characters of mine are the guards. And they suck.  
Distribution: Email me and we'll talk.  
  
  
  
  
The Demons Within  
  
  
  
Faith sat alone in her cell, her knees pulled up to her chest as she sat there, staring at the wall before her. Her once fair complexion had become quite pale in her time in prison, and the unusual darkening of her already dark brown hair only served to accentuate it's appearance. She didn't go out into the yard much, and the few times she did she kept to herself, staying in the shaded areas when she could find them. She had given herself up to the police in hopes that it would be a start on her road to redemption, if not at the very least, repentance. And yet, she still didn't feel like she had done the right thing. She still had her doubts about whether or not this truly was what was best for her. It wasn't that she couldn't handle prison life, it simply didn't feel, 'right'. As sorry as she was for the crimes she had committed, and as much as she wanted to make all the wrong things right, she somehow felt, empty. She felt as if some large part of her was missing.  
  
Her time alone in her cell gave her all the time alone in the world to sit back and think, reflect if you will about her life and he choices she had made. She had regrets, as most in her situation would, and yet, she somehow didn't feel ashamed. She felt more confused and alone than she thought possible, but no shame, and that's possibly what scared her the most. Was she truly evil? Was that why she didn't feel like her time in prison meant anything? Because deep down where it counts, she wasn't truly sorry? No. She refused to believe that, if for no other reason than because she had turned herself in. That act alone proved that she felt shame and guilt, at least on some level, didn't it? She closed her eyes and tried so very hard to forget the pain she felt, while at the same time needing to embrace it, to let herself know that she wasn't dirty, evil, a monster. All the things she was sure Buffy and the rest of the Scooby Squad thought of her.  
  
And yet, how could she be sure she wasn't? Here she was, sitting alone in a cell, with no one but herself to blame. She had no friends, no family, and no one to talk to about things. Angel's visits had become less and less frequent, and the other inmates weren't exactly the best of company either. Granted, there were a few she could talk to, in passing, but no one she could talk to about how she felt, or what she was going through. In all honesty, she wasn't even sure if she could talk to Angel about such things, even if he did ever decide to come visit her again. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath, fighting back the unshed tears that rested in her eyes. All she could do was keep asking herself the same question.  
  
Why?  
  
Yes, it often went more like "Why did I do that?" or "Why do I still feel so empty?" but in the end it always came back to "Why?"   
  
She wasn't sure why, but she was sure that she needed to find out. How could she go on living in a place that she hated, if she hated herself even more? She had thought that turning herself in to the LAPD would make everything ok, or at least, start to, and yet it didn't. She thought that maybe if she did something good for a change, it would help heal the aching in her soul. After standing up for a fellow inmate, she was rewarded with a stern beating from a few of the prison guards. She even thought that talking to someone about how she felt would be the answer, and yet one the rare occasions when she saw Angel, she could never bring the subject to pass her lips. Perhaps she truly was alone. Maybe no one did care. She sure felt like it, and unless she was reading the universe wrong, all signs were telling her the same thing.  
  
No one loves you Faith.  
  
Her eyes fell closed at the thought, as did the tears resting there. She could feel them sliding down her cheeks, and began to openly weep. It was something she did often, cry out of utter hopelessness, and as such she paid it no mind when she heard the guards by her door move a bit closer to peek in at her. She cursed her Slayer senses. She could hear their weight shift outside her solid steel door. The harsh grating of the little peek window being slid open and the slight squeak it made. She could even hear their whispers of, "She's at it again" when the window was closed. What did they know? To them, she was nothing but another inmate, a statistic. They couldn't possibly understand what she was going through. The pain, the anguish, the unbelievable feeling of utter sorrow she felt.  
  
They couldn't know about the nightmares.  
  
The nightmares that plagued her more often than not. The nightmares in which it seemed that everyone she ever knew surrounded her and laughed, or called her beast, monster, and murderer. They couldn't understand what it was like to actually be in one of these cells, cut off from human contact, from the outside world and from the very sun itself. That was a large part of why she was so pale. She simply didn't get to see the sun as often as others did. She was always in solitary confinement, or at least that how it seemed to her. And for what? For trying to help another inmate when she was getting picked on, beaten up, or raped? For what? For seeming a little "uncooperative" when a guard tried to force himself onto her? It seemed utterly ridiculous to her, and she simply didn't have the mental resolve to try and figure it out. All she knew was that something was wrong. Well, not so wrong as it was, 'out of place'. She opened her eyes and looked around her cell, onto to find, much to her surprise, one of the guards standing in the open doorway. He had apparently been speaking, though in her self-inflicted solace, she hadn't heard him say a word.  
  
"What?" she asked as she moved a hand to wipe the tears from her face.  
  
"Visitor, though I'm not sure why you get one, being in the Box and all"  
  
"Guess I'm just lucky."  
  
The only reply was a slight smirk and a grunt from the guard as he jerked his head in a motion indicating for her to come to follow him. She did as she was told, after being cuffed both at the ankles and wrists, and was led to the visitation area where she promptly took her seat in front of a thick, Plexiglas window in one of the few 'private' visiting rooms. Only, there was no one on the other side. She felt uneasy, unsure of what this meant. This feeling was only amplified as the guard started to leave the room, telling her that her visitor would be in shortly. As he stepped out of the room through the door they had used to enter the room, the door on the opposite side of the glass opened, and the last person in the world she expected to see walked in. Well, second to last, but only the Pope himself would have shocked her more. She could feel tears well up in her eyes as she watched the young blonde move to take a seat across from her. Even through tear blurred eyes she could see the resolve in the young woman's face. A face she hoped she wouldn't have to see for a long, long time. And at this point, it was a face she believed she would never see again.  
  
"Hello Faith."  
  
"Hey B."  
  
Faith fought hard not to cry. Why was this happening to her? How could this be happening to her? Buffy Anne Summers was dead and buried. How could she be her with her now?  
  
"Yes Faith, I am dead. But don't go getting all spooked on me just because of that."  
  
"But how are...."  
  
"Don't worry about that. Not now. Just know that I'm here, and that I'm willing to listen, if you're willing to talk."  
  
Faith just couldn't hold back the tears anymore. Again she wept, just as openly and as freely as she had in her cell. The next thing she knew, she could feel Buffy's arms around her and hear her soft voice comforting her. She sobbed uncontrollably in her arms until she could finally find the resolve to speak.  
  
"I'm just so sorry B. I'm so sorry. I...I can't even begin to tell you how awful I feel."  
  
"Shhhhh. It's ok. I know, I know." She replied as she began to stroke Faith's hair.  
  
"But I...I just feel so alone B. I have no one to talk to. No one to help me figure out this pain I feel. I've caused so much hurt and suffering..."  
  
"It's ok."  
  
"No it's not ok!" Faith cried as she tore herself from Buffy's grasp, standing up and moving away from the other Slayer some, only to turn around and look at her once more with a pained face. "God, when are you going to get it? Huh? I hurt inside, ok? It not like anything I've ever felt before, ok? I try to do good and I feel nothing, but when I think of going bad again I just..."  
  
"You were never bad. You just, need help. A friend. And I'm sorry I wasn't able to be that for you."  
  
Faith could feel more tears running down her face.  
  
"No! No, I'm not going to let you tell me what I did wasn't wrong. I refuse to believe that I feel this hurt, this...empty, over nothing."  
  
"I didn't say what you did wasn't wrong," Buffy looked at her with a forgiveness in her eyes that made Faith feel all the more guilty, and spoke with a voice calm enough to make the pale-skinned inmate irritated enough to hit her. "...All I'm saying is that you weren't bad, or evil, or any of those other things you think you were. Yes Faith, you caused some major hurt to me and mine, but I forgive you. I can still see the goodness in you, even if you can't."  
  
"But if I have all this goodness in me, why do I feel so hollow? Huh? Why did I do the things I did? Can you answer me that Buffy? Can you?"  
  
"Can you Faith?"  
  
"God! What is with you B? Does death make everyone so Yoda-esque, or is it just you?"  
  
"Answer the question Faith. Can you tell yourself why you did those things, or are you just going to keep avoiding the issue letting that gnawing hole you feel inside you continue to grow?"  
  
"I did them because I was evil Buff, I know that, but that doesn't ch..."  
  
"Wrong."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Wrong answer. Unless you admit to the truth Faith, you're going to be teary eyed girl for a long, long time."  
  
"Then what was it? What do you want me to say? I was evil? I was taken in by the Mayor's charms? What B? You want me to say that, underneath it all, I was just acting out because of some pent up frustration?"  
  
"I don't want you to say anything. All I want is for you to admit to the truth."  
  
"What truth!?"   
  
Faith was angrier than she thought. And yet she wasn't sure if she was angry at Buffy's attitude, or at herself. Buffy didn't speak or answer Faith question, or anything. She just sat there, watching Faith and waiting. The Bostonian Slayer could feel her eyes on her and started to pace, wishing that the blonde would say something. Anything for that matter. She just wanted the silence to end. She glanced at Buffy, who remained seated, just as still and as calm as ever. They were both quiet for what seemed like an eternity to Faith, and she knew that Buffy was right, even though she didn't want to admit it.  
  
"I....I was scared ok? I was scared that, I dunno, that I would lose you and the rest of the Scoobys."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Again it came down to why. Why was it always why?  
  
"I dunno. I just, didn't want to."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I, liked hanging with you and the gang. Kinda made me feel like I belonged, and I didn't want to lose that. I've never really been able to do the whole 'friend' thing, but you guys made me feel ok about myself you know? I didn't feel like such a nobody. Kinda felt like I finally had a place I could call my own." She was crying again, her left shoulder against the wall as she tried not to look at Buffy. "Even if it was just a small place. I needed to belong. Guess that's why I ran to Mayor so readily. He, looked after me, watched over me, he, actually cared for me B. Hell, I can count the people who have genuinely cared for me on one hand. No offence B, but I doubt Red and the rest of the Scoobys so much cared for me as much as tolerated me. I mean, god Buffy. The only person who's ever loved me, ever loved me, was an immortal demon intent on killing everyone in the town of Sunnydale. What does that say about me B? The only place I've ever been loved is in the arms of evil. Do you know what that's like? To sit alone every night and think, and know, that the only time in your life that you've ever been loved is when you hurting others? When you were doing things to hurt the people you once called friends? God B. Loved by evil. Embraced by evil. Nurtured by evil. How can I be anything but?"  
  
She looked at Buffy. Buffy looked back.  
  
"A friend of mine once had to pull me out a deep depression. You know what she said to bring me out of it?"  
  
"What?"  
  
Buffy stood up and walked over to Faith. She placed a gentle left hand on her shoulder, and used the right guide Faith's chin towards her looking her straight in the eyes.  
  
"She said 'Snap out of it'. Yes, you've done some pretty heinous things, and yes, you have caused much suffering, and yes, you do have a way of attracting evil..."  
  
"Great way to boost a girl's self esteem B."  
  
"... But you've also got a heart. A heart that's trying to change, a heart that wants to change, and a heart that above all else, knows love. Faith you know love, I know that, and you know that. You know what it's like to love, and what it is to love, even if he was a demon bent on killing everyone in Sunnydale. As lame and as corny as I know this sounds, you have to move on."  
  
"How? Just tell me how."  
  
"Faith, I forgive you. I know you may not believe it, but I do. All that's left, is for you to forgive yourself."  
  
Faith could no longer meet her eyes and lowered her head, weeping. How could she possibly forgive herself for what she had done? How? Did she even want to? She could feel Buffy's arms wrap themselves around her, holding her, comforting her, caring for her, and yet she still felt so cold. She could feel Buffy's lips touch her forehead in a loving, forgiving, gentle way. And she could feel the warmth the Buffy's body pressed against hers, driving off the cold. She wanted to say something, do something to let Buffy know how much this meant to her, how much she meant to her, but all she could do was cry. And as she did, she could feel a great burden being eased, ever so slowly away, and she didn't feel as empty inside.  
  
When she opened her eyes to look up at Buffy and try to say something, she found herself alone, in her cell, on her bed, facing the wall. She could once again hear the guards outside her cell door as they shifted their weight slightly. She could smell the mildew in the unused cell next to her. And she suddenly felt more alone then she had ever before. It was all a dream. She had never left her cell, talked to Buffy, or anything. She was still just as worthless and hopeless as ever. And yet, as she pulled her knees just a touch closer to her chest, she could once again feel Buffy's arms around her, and her lips upon her forehead. And as she sat there, she didn't feel so alone anymore, nor did she feel so, empty. And she could swear that if the guards would fall silent for just one miserable little moment, she could hear her whispering,  
  
"I forgive you."  



End file.
